CALLOUT POST: my sister’s cat
Shortly after I get home from work last night, she realizes she can’t find her beloved cat. I help her look through the house, but we can’t find him, so I tell her he probably got outside; we live in a fairly tucked-away neighborhood, so I assure her, after a quick search, that he's probably just wallowing in a patch of dirt somewhere, as he tends to do when he gets supervised outside time.
Hours go by. He doesn’t come back. I’m patrolling the street every hour, on the hour, trying to find him, because he’s large and stupid and probably couldn’t find his way back home if he got out. My sister tries waiting up for him, but she can’t stay awake any longer, so I assure her I’ll keep looking my hardest. I have to send a nine-year-old to bed crying her poor heart out because her baby is missing, and we don’t have a single lead.
Twenty minutes - TWENTY MINUTES AFTER SHE GOES TO BED - I'm in the bathroom, doing my skincare routine, and the shower curtains rustle. And out from behind them pops a giant creamsicle cat, bleary-eyed from a restful nap and in search of some food.
TL;DR: my sister’s cat is an asshole.